PART ONE:
SHOSHONE
PONY TAIL
We got up fairly early on
Saturday morning. I had a bagel with
cream cheese, an orange, hot coffee (courtesy of
David), and an iced coffee for breakfast.
It was my last chance to eat well for nearly two weeks. Then we finished packing before driving over
to the Boulder Basin trailhead at the Southfork work center. The trailhead is directly across the river
from the Deer Creek Campground, but getting to it required
driving north 5+ miles on Southfork Road to the bridge and then driving back
south another 5+ miles.
We could have started from the Cabin Creek Trailhead
at the end of Southfork Road, which would have shortened the first and last
days by 2+ miles. However, that approach
would have required wading the river after only a mile or so. The trail crosses the river where it is
braided, but it still would have been a major ford. I only had flip flops as water shoes, and
they would not have been adequate for a crossing of that magnitude. I knew I would get wet boots eventually, but
I wasn’t eager to do that right away.
Plus, the crossing might have been sketchy with a heavy pack.
The Trailhead is a half mile south of the South Fork
Work Center, but there is no parking where the trail starts. It begins at a gate leading into a ranch, at a small corner of National Forest
land. The trail goes up and around that
ranch, before dropping down to the river, where it meets the trail that
originates at Cabin Creek. Oddly, the
trail passes through another parcel of posted private property before it
reaches the river, but signs indicate that passing through is ok as long as you stay on the trail.
I was under the impression that the South Fork
Shoshone River Trail was popular, particularly with horsepackers. However, there were only two other cars in
the parking lot near the Work Center when we arrived - on a Saturday in late
July. We did our final packing there and
took the obligatory selfie before shouldering our packs and walking on up the
gravel road.
I had my doubts about the
accuracy of David’s scale, but the pack really didn’t feel bad. Believe it or not, it was easier than
carrying Jackson on even a relatively easy dayhike. That made me wonder – how many more days
could I add to a backpacking trip without resupplying? I’m pretty confident that I could do a 16 day trip. All I
would need to add is 3 days of food (6 pounds) and a few ounces of stove
fuel. Again, if David’s scale was
correct, that would be just over 50 pounds.
I have routinely carried more than that on trips with my wife. She calls me her sherpa for a reason.
We reached the first of several gates and headed up
the trail through sagebrush. The first
few miles were shadeless, and it was a sunny day. Fortunately it was
only mid-morning and not too hot. We
climbed a very noticeable hill as we circled around the ranch before passing
through another gate. The scenery was
fantastic from the very beginning, with great views of the rugged Absaroka
Mountains surrounding the valley.
David was moving slow. He didn’t seem to be struggling, but he was
concerned that his heart rate was too high.
I assured him that we weren’t in a hurry – I only planned to hike 7 or 8
miles on the first day. Unfortunately the slow pace didn’t help him much. We were on our way towards the river when we
reached a small stream. David announced
that he wasn’t physically ready for backpacking, and that he was going to get
water and then head back. I was
disappointed, as I had been looking forward to his company for a few days. However, I didn’t want to pressure him into continuing.
We parted ways, and I continued through yet another
gate on my way towards the river. A bit
later I saw another person. Well,
almost. To be accurate, I saw part of a
person. OK, let me be specific. What I saw was a pony tail,
a pair of hips in blue jeans, and the back end of a horse. It was definitely a
female – the person, I mean, not the horse - but she disappeared over the crest
of the next hill right after I saw her.
To be clear, the horse also disappeared.
It would have been super weird if she had disappeared
but the horse had still been there.
I figured that there was a group of horsepackers ahead of me.
A couple of times I thought I heard voices, and I thought I might catch
up to them if they stopped for a break.
I never saw them though. In fact,
I didn’t see a single other person for the first 4 ½ days of the trip, not
counting the pony tail.
My trail finally merged with the trail that starts
at Cabin Creek, at a vague, unmarked junction that I was likely to miss on the
way out (I did). The trail stays fairly close to the river along here, but far enough away
that there are only a few views of it.
There are also some brushy stretches of trail, so I got to practice
making silly noises to scare off any bears (and all other wildlife) that might
be loitering near the trail. I reached
Aspen Creek a little bit later, where I stopped for water. By that point it was really clouding up, even
though it wasn’t quite noon. Rain looked
imminent, so I decided to have an early lunch.
I have an aversion to eating lunch in the rain for some reason, so I
decided to be proactive. It was a pretty exciting lunch, too. An actual ham, turkey, and cheese
sandwich. I would have to rely on my nut
butter packets and pita bread for every other lunch after that.
It started raining shortly after I resumed the
hike. It was just enough to convince me
to put on my rain jacket and pack cover.
I resumed the hike, and the rain immediately stopped. I stopped and took off the rain jacket, but
left the pack cover on as a deterrent against future showers.
The first four miles of the hike had been pretty easy, but the next 3 miles were TOUGH. The trail climbed onto a series of benches
high above the river, which runs through a deep, narrow slot canyon far
below. There are numerous steep ups and
downs, and the trail traverses several scree fields. Despite the challenging terrain, the trail is well-designed and it was in good
shape.
I crossed a small tributary and glanced upstream at
the perfect moment to glimpse a huge waterfall.
Wait, what? I checked the map,
and sure enough, there was obviously a monster waterfall a short distance
upstream. I checked my watch. It was only early afternoon, and I was only
planning to hike a few more miles. Yeah,
let’s do this.
Initially I thought it would be pretty
easy to follow the creek upstream, but the stream banks were all loose
rock and crumbly dirt. The rocks were
slippery, and the canyon was narrow. I
was about halfway when I decided to ditch the pack. I don’t like leaving my pack unattended in
bear country – what could go wrong? – but I also don’t like carrying 13 days worth of food and gear while scrambling and
bushwhacking. I figured that it would
only take me a few more minutes, but that was wishful thinking. It took another half hour to reach the base of
the waterfall and return. The view from
the bottom was nice, but when I got there, I found myself wondering if the view
would be better from the cliff above. I
checked the map again, and it looked like it would be pretty
easy to get there. I decided that
I would consider it if the route looked as good as the map suggested when I got
there.
I returned to my pack, which had not been molested
by bears or any other creatures. From
there I continued back down the creek and resumed the hike. It only took a couple of minutes to reach the
optimal point to head up to the cliff overlooking the waterfall. Incredibly, that point was in a meadow. How could I pass it up?
I headed up through the meadow, and for once, the
route actually was as easy as it looked. I ditched my pack again (!) and continued up
a wooded, steep slope. From there I was
able to pick my way down to a great viewpoint of the waterfall. My vantage point was on the cliff directly
across from the waterfall. It offered a
great view – much better than the base of the falls. From the bottom, the falls are diminished by
the viewing angle, and the upper part is out of sight. The view from the cliff reveals the entire
waterfall in all its glory.
The map suggests another waterfall upstream. There is a major game trail continuing up the
ridge, so I decided to follow it. I
thought it might lead to a good view, but the mountainside is heavily forested
farther up. I climbed to where I
expected a good view, but there were too many trees in
the way.
I noticed that the clouds had thickened, and thunder
rumbled. My pack (and rain gear) was way
down below, so I hurried back. By the
time I reached my pack the storm was nearly on top of me. I hurried back through the meadow and
returned to the trail. I paused there
briefly, as there was an obvious route down towards the slot canyon that the S
Fork Shoshone River runs through. I
really wanted to see that, but it was very exposed. I wanted to check it out, but I also really
didn’t want to get hit by lighting.
Instead, I hurried up the trail until I reach a
thick stretch of woods right before another open area. I stopped there, and the storm finally hit a
minute or two later. I decided to wait
it out, and watched it pour for 30 minutes or so. Eventually it seemed like the storm was
passing, but it was still coming down hard outside of the shelter of the
woods. Eventually I walked out there,
and I found that the rain wasn’t as powerful as it looked. It was really coming down, but it barely got
me wet. I guess it was a dry rain. Only in
the Rockies…
The dry rain eventually passed, and I continued up
the trail. After a short distance I
reached a view of a small stream cascading down the mountainside on the far
side of the canyon. From there it wasn’t
far too the most spectacular waterfall of the day. Falls Creek is a much larger stream, and it
drops over a series of waterfalls before one final, stunning plunge into the
depths of the slot canyon below. The
waterfall is visible from the trail, but I put some effort into finding a
better view. That was completely
unnecessary, as there is a great viewpoint easily accessible from the trail a
short distance beyond. I took a break
there before continuing on to a series of cliffs with another
amazing view up the valley. It’s an incredible spot, and only 5 ½ miles
from the trailhead. It would make a
great destination for a dayhike.
I took a long break there before resuming my
hike. I briefly wandered down the Falls
Creek Trail in error, which descends to the river, crosses, and then climbs the
far side of the canyon, joining Falls Creek upstream from the falls. That accidental side trip had one benefit – I
found an unexpected spring a short distance down from the cliffs. I made a note of that before climbing back up
and finding the correct trail.
The next stretch of trail traverses another tedious
talus slope. Once I descended it, I
enjoyed a surprisingly easy stretch of trail roughly parallel to the
river. You could camp a small army along
here, but I continued on. After another mile or so I reached some old
mining cabins just before Needle Creek.
The cabins were in various states of decay, but one of them had some
surprisingly modern appliances. There
was even a refrigerator. It looked like
it was built in the 1950’s. It probably
still works – unlike your average refrigerator built ten years ago. I’m not sure where the electricity was coming
from though. I was way off the grid at
this point.
I continued a short distance to Needle Creek. I thought I might continue
on another mile and camp near Saddle Creek, but Needle Creek made me
pause. Needle Creek was raging whitewater.
The trail crosses at a fairly narrow
point. It was hard to judge, but I’d
guess that it was thigh deep, with a powerful current. Could I wade that without being knocked off
my feet? I had my doubts. I looked upstream but didn’t see anything
more appealing. Downstream the creek
braided, but almost all of the water went to the
left. That might be a little better, but
probably not a lot.
It was almost 6pm and I was tired. I decided to find a place to camp and save
the Needle Creek problem for the next morning.
I backtracked a short distance and then headed into the woods away from
the old cabins. I quickly stumbled upon
a fire ring and a good spot for the tent.
Unfortunately the fire ring was very close to
the tent site, and cooking and eating close to where you sleep is a bad idea in
grizzly country. I wandered around for awhile, considering my
options. Finally
I decided to use the obvious tent spot, but I cooked and ate in an open area
close to the trail. That spot was
comfortable, and it had a nice view of the surrounding mountains. The tent spot was great, too, as I could
clearly hear the cascading creek from there.
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